~~ If you get a new mail carrier, and you suddenly get a lot less mail, what happens if you complain? Does the new dude toss all your remaining mail in the garbage out of spite?

~~ I miss our previous mail carrier, by the way. He was great! If Mike’s now doing your route, you’re very lucky. Please say “hi” for me.

~~ The guy in the commercial praising some hair restoration product says, “I hadn’t looked in a mirror in seven months…” Seriously? Not even to check for spinach in your teeth or to see if your butt looks big in those new pants?

~~ Here’s a first world problem for you: A woman is complaining that sometimes her brother-in-law shares his extra opera tickets. “You know how it is,” she moans. “It’s just such a chore to go to the opera.”

~~ As the smell permeated the room, the instructor panicked. “I know carbon monoxide is odorless, but this might be it anyway! Please let me know if anyone is going to pass out.” Turned out to be someone nearby frying eggs; the smell grew even stinkier when she opened up the windows at the suggestion of a placid student. But my mind wandered as I wondered how much notice one actually has before passing out.

~~ It’s likely I would have more things to share with you, except a confluence of deadlines all settled on my shoulders last night. It’s not that I didn’t know they were coming, and it’s certainly not that I was slacking off (in fact, according to some poll or survey on the Today Show, I may be a partial pre-crastinator). However, sometimes the days — and the week — just aren’t long enough to filter everything that needs to be done efficiently, and something has to give way.